The Team That Couldn't Lose Read online

  “I don’t know,” said Splash, shaking his head. “I can’t figure Phil out at all.” Then he looked at Chip and asked, “Where were you last night, Chip? I mean, really?”

  Chip had been expecting that question. “I felt all right,” he said. “I wanted to quit football. But I changed my mind.”

  4

  At two o’clock Saturday, the Stingrays, dressed in green-and-white uniforms, kicked off to the Cayugans, who were dressed in bright red-and-blue uniforms. The sun shone pale behind puffy white clouds, and a breeze was blowing, just enough to make playing comfortable.

  The safety caught the boot and carried it up the field to the thirty-five. In the huddle, Chip called a play. The guys broke out and lined up at the line of scrimmage.

  “Down!” Chip shouted. “One! Two! Hip!”

  Chip caught the snap from the center, then handed it off to Spence, who charged with it through the line. He was hit on the thirty-six.

  “A measly one-yard gain,” Spence complained in the huddle. “Let me run it again, Chip.”

  “Okay. Firehose, Chazz, open up that hole for him.”

  They opened up a hole, and Spence went through for five yards. Then Chip tried a pass. It failed. Then they kicked. The Stingrays caught the punt on their ten and got as far as their twenty-two. They started to move the ball down the field. It appeared to be a move that couldn’t be stopped.

  It couldn’t. The Stingrays bucked across for a touchdown and converted for a 7-0 lead.

  In the second quarter, the Cayugans managed to get to the Stingrays’ twenty-yard line, the closest to the goal they’d been since the game had started.

  Chip looked anxiously toward the sideline at Coach Phil Wayne. What was Phil waiting for? Why didn’t he send in that play? Maybe he was waiting to pull it on the second down. Or the third.

  Chip called for a line buck with Bill Perrett carrying the ball. Bill was a short, husky guy substituting for Spencer Keel. He lost a yard on the play and looked sick as he scrambled up from the bottom of the pile. Chip looked toward the sideline again. But Phil still wasn’t sending in the play.

  Chip tried a short pass. It was high. Tracy Tinker reached for it. It bounced off his hands and into the arms of a Stingray player! The Stingray buzzed off down the field and didn’t stop until he had crossed the goal line.

  Another touchdown! Chip gritted his teeth and shook his head.

  The kick to convert was slightly to the right, leaving the score 13-0.

  The Stingrays kicked off. The Cayugans caught the ball and carried it back to the twenty-eight before getting tackled. The Cayugans managed to get two first downs by the skin of their teeth. Both times the linesmen had to run onto the field with their chain and measure. And both times the nose of the ball just crossed the line by a couple of inches.

  Chip started to name a play in the huddle when a sub burst in. “Hold it!” he said. “Phil wants Play One!”

  Chip stared at him, then smiled with relief. “About time!” he said. “Okay, men! Let’s go!”

  There wasn’t much time left on the clock. The ball was on the Stingrays’ thirty-two yard line. The Cayugans hustled into position, Chip called signals, and the ball was snapped.

  The play went off like a charm. Chip faked to Gordie, then tossed a lateral to Splash Tuttle. Splash circled around right end and went all the way.

  The Cayugans’ fans went crazy. They leaped and shouted, hardly believing what they’d seen. Spence booted for the extra point. It was good. 13-7.

  In the third quarter, the Stingrays got hot again. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t been cold at all. They rolled across the white ten-yard stripes slowly and sometimes swiftly. They were on the Cayugans’ four-yard line when something happened. A fumble! The Cayugan safety scooped up the loose ball and dashed down the field to the Cayugans’ twenty-four before he was tackled.

  The Cayugans couldn’t do much with it, however. The ball was soon back in the Stingrays’ possession. They had moved it down the field and gotten it to the Cayugans’ nine when the third quarter ended.

  The Stingrays’ first play in the fourth was a pass. It worked beautifully — for the Cayugans, who intercepted it and bolted down the field to their thirty-eight. While the fans roared, the offense ran onto the field. Chip looked toward the sideline.

  The play, Phil! he pleaded silently. Send in the play!

  Phil was looking and pacing back and forth at the same time, as if wondering whether this was the time to send in the play or not. He didn’t send it in.

  Chip tried a run through right tackle and gained two yards. Luther Otis, another backfield sub, bucked for two more. And then in came a sub, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

  “Firehose, take off!” he cried breathlessly. And to Chip, “Play One!”

  Chip’s heart soared. “About time!” he said. But what if it didn’t work this time? They just might have been lucky that first time.

  They pulled the play, and it worked again! Splash went all the way for a touchdown. Once more the Cayugans’ fans went crazy! The Cayugans themselves jumped all over the place and slapped each other on the shoulders, taking so much time that the ref blew his whistle and reminded them that the game wasn’t over yet.

  The kick was good, and the Cayugans went into the lead 14-13.

  Somehow the Cayugans kept the Stingrays from putting across another touchdown, managing to win the game they had been so sure they were going to lose. When the team walked off the field, Phil Wayne was so pleased that he shook the hand of every member on the team. “Great game!” he kept saying. “Great game!”

  Chip shook his hand, turned, and almost ran smack into Danny Livermore.

  “Gosh, that was a great game, wasn’t, it, Chip?” Danny asked. “You really worked that new play! But I knew you’d be able to do it!” Danny clutched his notebook tightly and nodded, a wide grin on his face.

  Chip was so happy that he couldn’t help grinning back. “Yeah, we did okay today,” he replied. “Thanks to that play of Phil’s, that is. But can he come up with any more like that one?”

  Danny’s smile widened. “Oh, I’m sure he can. He’s a great guy. Just like you, Chip!”

  5

  At Monday night’s practice, Phil appeared more nervous than usual. Chip could hardly believe that the victory over the Stingrays could have affected the coach so much.

  “Boys,” Phil said, and cleared his throat. “Boys, I’ve got a new play we’re going to start practicing this evening.”

  “A new one?” Chip’s sun-browned face lit up. “A new play, Coach?”

  “That’s right. A new play.” Phil cleared his throat again and looked at the notebook in his hand. “We’re going to call it Play Two.”

  Chip frowned. “What about Play One, Coach? Are we going over that, too?”

  Phil’s blue eyes roved over to Chip. “We’re going to forget Play One for a while, Chip,” he said. “We’re just going to concentrate on Play Two. Er . . . now, let’s see. Get into position, boys. First team on offense, second team on defense. Help them out, will you, Mr. Quigley?”

  Twenty-one players scrambled into position, then stood and looked at their head coach as he studied the notebook in his hand.

  “This play isn’t too hard to do,” Phil promised. “If we work it right, it could get us out of a tough spot. Okay, listen: Toots snaps the ball to Chip. Chip fakes a handoff to Spence, and Spence runs toward the right side of the line, pretending he has the ball. At the same time, Splash runs toward the right side, too. Chip laterals the ball to him. Then Chip turns and runs toward the left sideline. Splash throws him a pass on the flat. That’s all there is to it.” He smiled. “Well, maybe there is a little bit more to it. We’ve got to have blocking, too. Hans, you run down the field straight at the defensive right halfback, and then cut right toward the center of the field. Marty, you pull out from left guard and block the right linebacker. Toots . . .”

  One by one Phil explained to each
player what he had to do. Then he repeated everything he’d said. The team worked on the play. Chip found that his job was easy.

  They worked the play until everyone knew exactly what to do. Chip noticed Danny Livermore watching Phil Wayne with glowing eyes and a proud smile on his face. He sure admired Phil. Chip half hoped that Danny would start following Phil around instead of him.

  The Cayugans practiced the play every day that week except Friday, their rest day.

  On Saturday they tangled with the Duckbills, who had won the week before, beating the Black Elks. There were only four teams in the league: the Cayugans, the Stingrays, the Duckbills, and the Black Elks.

  All week long, the kids in school had seemed positive that the Duckbills would trim the Cayugans. The Duckbills had a clever quarterback, Nick Savino, and a tough fullback, Joe Bloom.

  But what really tilted their opinion in favor of the Duckbills was the Cayugans themselves. They were just lucky to have beaten the Stingrays, the crowd figured. Except for those two plays, the Cayugans had looked pretty lousy throughout the whole game. It was a good thing they had pulled off those plays at the right time, or they would have been skunked.

  After the end of the first quarter, it appeared that the fans who had figured the Duckbills would smother the Cayugans had figured right. Nick Savino of the Duckbills flipped a short pass for a touchdown, then kicked for the extra point. It was good. Later he threw a long one. It would’ve gone for another touchdown if the intended receiver hadn’t run into one of the goalposts.

  In the second quarter, the Duckbills made some long successful runs. One of them resulted in a touchdown that didn’t count because the referee spotted a Duckbill throwing a block from behind.

  “Clipping!” yelled the referee.

  Before the half was over, though, Joe Bloom broke through tackle for a twenty-four-yard touchdown run. The half ended with the Duckbills leading 14-0.

  “We’d better start using Play Two this second half,” Chip said to Phil. “We’d just better, or they’ll trim us.”

  “Hang on, Chip,” Phil said calmly. “We’ll use it all right.”

  His voice was calm. But Chip saw that the hand holding the notebook was trembling.

  The Cayugans pulled the big play just before the end of the third quarter. They had their backs against the wall — right on their own eight-yard line. Chip didn’t figure that Phil would call in the play now, but he did.

  It went off perfectly. Chip lateraled the ball to Splash. Splash heaved him a forward pass, which he caught and carried all the way down to the Duckbills’ end zone. Spence converted for the extra point.

  The Duckbills began rolling again. Twice the flag was dropped as the referee spotted Duckbills linemen offside. The Duckbills sputtered about the calls and tried harder than ever to regain lost ground. Then they fumbled the ball on their twenty-two-yard line, and the Cayugans recovered.

  “Chip!” said a new voice in the huddle. “Phil wants us to use Play Two!”

  It was a substitute. Another player ran off the field.

  Chip smiled. “Okay. Play Two. Let’s go!”

  This time, the play didn’t click. Hans Lodder’s man had gotten past him and was about to tackle Chip. Luckily, Chip managed to twist out of his grasp, got a nice block from Jim Kolar, and went galloping down the field for the Cayugans’ second touchdown.

  The kick for an extra point wasn’t good, and Chip’s spirits sank again. They trailed the Duckbills 14-13. A tie, at least, would’ve been better.

  But the game wasn’t over yet. In the fourth quarter, with two and a half minutes to go, Spence booted a field goal from the Duckbills’ fourteen. It was good! The fans went wild again.

  The game ended with the Duckbills on the Cayugans’ four-yard line: Cayugans 16, Duckbills 14.

  Once again the Cayugans jumped for joy, laughing and shouting. Danny Livermore joined in the hilarity.

  Then Splash looked around for the coach. “Hey,” he said, “where’s Phil?”

  Chip and the others looked around, too. Phil was nowhere in sight.

  “Guess he’s gone,” said Chip. “How do you like that? He didn’t even give us a chance to congratulate him.”

  6

  Chip turned to Danny. “Did Phil say anything to you, Danny?” he asked.

  The manager of the undefeated Cayugans looked at Chip with his mouth open and his large eyes staring perplexedly.

  “Well, just before the game was over, he wanted me to put all the balls into the bag,” Danny replied. “Then, right after the game, he took the ball that was used in the game, stuck it in the bag, and ran to his car as if his house was on fire. I don’t know why he left so suddenly.”

  “Did you ask him?” Splash asked.

  “Yes. I said, ‘Why are you leaving so soon, Phil?’ He said he had to get home.”

  “That’s all he said?”

  “That’s all.”

  What was troubling Phil? Chip wondered. He wouldn’t have run off so quickly, without even congratulating his team, if something wasn’t troubling him, would he?

  “It must’ve been something very important,” Danny said. “He wouldn’t run off for no good reason.” His eyes brightened as he turned to Chip. “Chip, those catches you made were the sensational moments of the game!”

  Chip smiled. “Thanks, Danny. But Splash deserves a lot of the credit. He threw those passes.”

  “I know. They were right on target, too.” Danny turned to the left halfback, whose dark hair was matted down from sweat. “Just like they were supposed to be.”

  Chip, Splash, Spencer, and Danny started to walk home together. The boys discussed Phil and the plays he had used in their two games. No matter how you looked at it, it was those special plays that had won the games for the Cayugans. They were difficult plays — a lot more difficult than any of those Mr. Kash had taught them. Yet Phil and Mr. Quigley had drilled the Cayugans until they had learned the plays well enough to pull them off successfully.

  “I think Phil’s been holding out on us,” said Chip. “I think he knows more about football than we figured. Or even Mr. Kash figured.”

  “I think he does, too,” said Splash. “He probably figured out those plays himself. Boy, they worked beautifully.”

  “Why should he have held out on us?” Spencer asked wonderingly. “Why didn’t he tell Mr. Kash about those plays?”

  “Phil isn’t that kind of guy,” said Danny mildly. “He keeps a lot of things to himself. Maybe he thought he would’ve embarrassed Mr. Kash if he had suggested any plays to him.”

  “That could be,” agreed Chip. “Phil wouldn’t do a thing that might make a guy think he’s awfully smart or something.”

  On Monday, Phil had a new play he taught the boys. He called it Play Three. Chip and the other guys thought it was odd to give the plays such simple names. The whole idea of learning a brand-new play each week seemed strange, too. Chip had never heard of a coach doing things the way Phil Wayne was doing them.

  The crazy part of it was that the plays worked. That Saturday, the Cayugans played the Black Elks and came away with a win, 20-14. The second touchdown for the Cayugans had been scored by accident. The Black Elks had fumbled a snap from center, which Gordie had recovered and had run all the way down the field with. But the first and third touchdowns were the results of the new play Phil Wayne had taught them.

  The crowd, which had almost doubled since the first game, cheered their heads off when the game was over. All through the game, the Black Elks had looked so much better than the Cayugans that it had seemed impossible for them to lose. But lose they did. The Black Elks could hardly believe it themselves as they trudged off the field.

  Chip saw Phil toss the last ball into the canvas bag and could tell that the coach was anxious to leave quickly again. But Phil was stopped by a short, gray-haired man with a stubble of beard. It was Jasper McFall, a grumpy-looking character but a real football fan.

  “Say, Phil,” he said, squinting
at the coach with piercing brown eyes, “where’d you get that play that you used to pull off those touchdowns?”

  Chip thought that Phil’s face turned a shade pale. “Just got them, Jasper,” Phil answered, his voice wavering a little. “Worked okay, didn’t they?”

  “They sure did. But I’m kind of curious, Phil,” Jasper McFall said. Chip took a step closer so as not to miss anything. “We used that play sixty years ago at the high school when I was playing backfield. Saw your first two games and recognized the plays you used in them, too. We used them ourselves . . . sixty years ago. Where’d you get them, Phil?”

  Phil’s face turned a shade paler. All at once, without saying another word to Jasper McFall, he slung the bag of football equipment over his shoulder and strode away. This time Danny went along with him, one hand under the bag to make it lighter for the coach. Danny looked back once and gave Jasper McFall a dirty look.

  “What about it, Mr. Quigley?” Jasper McFall asked the assistant coach. “Where did Phil get those tricky plays?”

  Mr. Quigley shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea, Mr. McFall. I thought they were his own.”

  “His own, nothing,” Jasper snorted. “He couldn’t dream up plays like that. You heard me say that we used those same plays sixty years ago, didn’t you? Well, we did. He got them from somebody who played then, and I’m going to find out who!”

  With that he gave another snort and tromped disgustedly away.

  7

  During the noon hour on Monday, Chip and Splash went to see Jack McKane, the high school football coach. Chip had known Mr. McKane for years, since he was a friend of Chip’s father. Mr. McKane was six feet, four inches tall and thin as a rail. You’d think he’d been a basketball player back in his college days, but he hadn’t. He had played end on his football team. There was something else that surprised a lot of people. He wrote short stories for boys’ magazines.

  He asked the boys to sit down, then looked at them across his broad, almost bare desk. “Well, Chip, Splash, I’m honored by your visit.” Mr. McKane smiled at them. “But neither of you is a student of mine, so it isn’t because of poor marks, it it?”